Costa Rica

February 27, 2009

Sometimes, you´ll find yourself stuck and will have to pay by the night. There are always cheap options for this as well.

I have not yet visited a continent where you cannot find a hostel, although if you arrive too late in the day or during a particularly busy time -- such as Carnival in Central or South America -- you´ll be forced to turn to either camping out or a more expensive choice.

In France, Italy, Holland and just about every where else we stayed in Europe, we found we could trust in the quality of the places recommended by tourist offices, even if the prices seemed too good to be true. The owners are also willing to negotiate their prices if they have an empty room and someone in tourist information will do the negotiation for you. That's how we ended up at both La Beliere in Moustiers Sainte-Marie and La Matabone of Lourges. They were both new and thus empty at the height of tourist season. Both, I will add, were a bit out of the main tourist drag.

Wherever you are, don't be afraid to negotiate even if you're not fluent in the language. If nothing else, the negotiation gives you practice.

There's also the Etap chain - the cheapest of the Accor group of hotels found all over Europe. Cheap stay per night, includes breakfast, not luxury, but not bad at all, and you can usually get a room at the very last minute. Etap saved us from sleeping on the street more than one night.Seek out advice from every possible place!

I consider this perhaps the most important thing you need to do. Start right now!

When we first decided to travel, we noticed that everyone and his mother had advice for us. We also found that many friends, family and even strangers had offers of places to stay, contacts in certain cities, and endless local insider information. It can be overwhelming and at times even unwanted.

Listen anyway.

Someone might mention a job or place to stay for free. Having contacts can also help you immeasurably if you show up somewhere looking for work. As an example: When we first discussed traveling to Buenos Aires -- approximately nine months before we finally arrived in Argentina -- Noah contacted an old professor of his from City College who we knew had contacts in South America. He ultimately connected us to the place we´re now staying and working in Salta. It was a slow process, but now that we´re here, we have community in Salta who has helped us immeasurably.

I keep a Word -- or whatever text editor you use -- file on my desktop where I type down any and all information people give me. I make sure to include the name of the country or city along with whatever information I´ve been given. I don´t worry too much about order or neatness. When I want to find something, I simply do a search in the file for the country or place name.

Talk to other travelers. In most places, there is a circuit. Wherever you are, there will be a stream of people coming from all directions and destinations. You ask them all about how busy things are, how cheap, what’s the best way to get around, good places to stay, then plan your next step accordingly.Otherwise, I would never have known that the guy selling chicken sandwiches out of a trailer on the main street in Bocas serves one of the best chicken sandwiches I've ever had (always get the Jumbo with piquante and cheese.) Or that when everyone thought Bocas had been destroyed by earthquakes and flooding, I was able to let a friend of mine who leads GAP tours know that Bocas was indeed fine and open for business.

Again, Couchsurfing is a wonderful source of this sort of travel tips. As are TripAdvisor, Matador Travel, Twitter and Yahoo Groups (although with Yahoo, the personal profiles are more limited, so you don't have as much on which to judge the person giving advice). On all, you can contact people directly or post in a larger group.

Are you a musician, a dancer, a performer of any kind? Do you want to be? While perhaps this is a bad idea in places like Atlanta or New York, where street performing and vending are discouraged, there are plenty places in this world who not only tolerate but encourage busking.

You will be amazed at how open and giving people can be. Friends, family and perfect strangers have freely given advice, clothing, contacts, a place to stay or a meal. I, myself, try to be as giving. When we have a place of our own, we open our home, our table and our things for others.

My openness, however, has boundaries. There are always those who will take advantage, so you have to read, research and know what how much your willing to pay or give before agreeing to anything. That said, people have overwhelmingly helpful. We have had only one less than stellar experience, and that only involved the loss of some snorkel equipment and a towel.

Also remember that no one owes you anything, no matter what they promise. Don't bother getting yourself all worked up when someone offers help then doesn't deliver. Instead, be patient, focus on those people who do come through and then move on.

I suppose that´s exactly what I mean when I say we´re traveling one day at a time. Each day brings new surprises, enchantments and yes, even disappointments. You take them as they come. It´s character building, and that, I believe is the very crux of traveling.

December 18, 2008

I thought I understood Spanish when we lived in Panama. Until I crossed the border into Costa Rica when I sat in a guard booth just after crossing into Sixaola chatting with the border patrol while Noah went back into Panama to stamp the passports we forgot to stamp. All of a sudden, not a single thing made sense.

This last time in Panama and Costa Rica, I understood everyone. So again, I thought I understood Spanish.

Until we landed in Buenos Aires.

The pace of the language is different. Here, they use a more elegant Spanish and incorporate far more words than you hear on a daily basis in Panama or Costa Rica.

In Panama, it's Buenos when you want to say hello, morning, noon or night. Buenos Aires, not only do you have to know whether it's morning, noon or night, you have to remember how to conjugate the masculine or feminine forms of the greeting. Dias, masculine Buenos Dias. Afternoon, feminine, Buenas Tardes. Which is all well and good when I can go and look it up in a book or online, but generally, I don't have that kind of time when saying a quick good morning.

But it's really the prononciation that kills me. What really gets me is that "double L." As in villa, zapallito, zapatilla, muelle, orgullo and endless other words I've used in the past and been understood. Stress on in the past.

Villa, easy right? Vee-Ya. That's how I'd say it in just about every other Spanish speaking situation I've encountered. Not so now. Now it's Vee-zha. Zappa-zhito, moo-zhay. And if you don't say it that way, you won't be understood.

As if I would have been understood using the Panamanian version of words. Fresa. Maracuya. Mantequilla. That would be strawberry, peach and butter respectively. But mantequilla would not be pronounced in the Argentinian Man-Teh-Key-zha, because that is not the word for butter here. It's manteca. Fresa becomes fruitilla. Melocoton becomes durazno.

Of course it does. And I've heard tell that things change once again when you leave the city.

I have now truly mastered the Blank Look, No Entiendo method of communication. I'll be teaching lessons in the fall.

And now that I've probably confused all of you as much as I have myself, I'm off to take my first all Spanish yoga class.

April 13, 2008

A bird from the La Paz Waterfall Garden. I believe this one is the national bird of Costa Rica. Of course, I can't find our bird guide at the moment, so I'll give it's real name when I do.

And here's Lila very proudly and carefully holding a butterfly. This is the same one that didn't want to leave her hand. The dress was an early birthday present from Granny and Grandpa. She wants to wear it every day.

The first of the four waterfalls of La Paz. They're really quite awe-inspiring, and the paths and stairs leading through the gardens take you so close. But it is very different than most of the places we've visited of late, being that there are bricked and paved paths and lots of rails, gates and signs making sure you can only go in one direction. Noah mentioned that it felt like the whole area wasn't real, like we were looking at it all through glass in a zoo.

Below is the bridge between Sixaola, Costa Rica and Panama. We've crossed it three times, and each time I forget how shaky it looks. The other times, Lila was tired, didn't want to walk. This time, she wanted to run and explore everything. She wanted to peer over the edge and skip backwards.

The dock in Changuinola. Well, actually, not in Changuinola, a ten minute taxi ride away, and apparently the bus doesn't go here. There's a playground right behind where Lila tried out the one in tact swing and a see saw. What struck me is most of the other kids there didn't play on the playground toys. Instead, they collected flowers and plants from the water, played in a wooden boat sitting by the edge, helped travelers with their bags and asked for money. Most times, they got food, an apple or candy in its place.

The boat doesn't come here as often as Almirante, so we waited an hour for the next. It was worth it. Lila slept on my lap the entire way back.

April 12, 2008

Remember that guy on the bus, the one that wouldn't stop talking? Not Ron Hart, but his marathon-of-talk companion. One of the things he told us is that Costa Ricans don't like the Caribbean coast of the country, no, not really, not much at all.

Of course, the people I know and met who actually live in Costa Rica seem to feel differently. As do I.

.

There's a little road, some paved, some not, lots of potholes, slow going that winds its way along Playa Negra. I haven't been able to find it on any maps we have, but it's there. We've followed it from Cahuita to Puerto Viejo to Punto Cocles and Punta Uva to Manzanillo,

We first saw this area a couple months ago, when we went to renew our visas. Then again, last week on our way back from San Jose. Something was happening on the road from Limon, so the ride took a couple hours longer than normal. We left at 2pm to stumble off the bus in Puerto Viejo just a shade before 8pm. We all slept along the way, so I can't say we were exhausted, but after all the hours of sitting through tours in San Jose, we were stiff and rather cranky.

This area is a slice of the afterlife just sitting there on the coast. It's quiet. Not a lot of cars. Lots of bikers, hikers, backpackers and surfers. Actually, it's similar to Bocas in many ways, but next to the sea instead of right in the middle.

Before finding the place were stayed, we made our way to Coco Cielo and sat down. Sort of. I was so discombobulated from the trip I just stood there, staring at things. Then Jordan, the owner of the place came to welcome us. Something about her just made you happy. We sat down, had an Imperial (a great! beer) and relaxed.

That's when I noticed a smell in the air. It reminded me a lot of marijuana. I assumed someone on the street was smoking, but it was so strong it would have had to come from right near us. It was right near us. One man at the bar, let's call him M, sat there rolling and smoking like it was us drinking our beers.

I heard him later on chatting with another man about the legal ins and outs of smoking weed in Costa Rica. According to M, it's been decriminalized. If you're caught with it, assuming it's a small enough amount for personal use and not for sale, your stash will be taken, stomped on. Nothing more.

Here in Panama, I've been told, you'll be rounded up and sent for a night at the police station in Changuinola.

There, it's considered a disease, an illness, and a smoker needs help not prison.

Later on, M joined us at our table. Very interesting man. He's traveled all over. Lived and owned bars, restaurants and strip clubs in.Holland, Panama City, Puerto Viejo. We promised to drop by his pizza place at some point and went off to find the place we were staying.

And what a place! Noah found it through Vacation Rental By Owner. Carter and Pamela, also the owners of a local restaurant and bar called Loco Natural, rent three cabins on their property. A piece of land filled with cacao, pineapple, guayabana, noni, nutmeg, teak and more.

I've never seen fresh nutmeg before. There are male and female trees. The nutmeg comes from the fruit of the female plant. That fruit looks like a green plum and the nut inside has a web-like deep red covering. You peel that to extract the hard, woody nutmeg seed. We brought one home to use in cooking. Last night, it came in handy. Our neighbors came over for dinner and we made seco with warm milk, honey and a final touch of nutmeg grated on top.

Back in Puerto Veijo, though, we spent the night in a mostly open cabin in the jungle. The next day, we walked around town a bit before taking a cab to Manzanillo. About 15 kilometers away, but it takes almost half and hour to get there by road. It would have made more sense to rent bikes and ride our way down the road instead.

The cab driver knew that road blind. He swerved back and forth to avoid potholes, often while looking into the back seat to say cute things to Lila. If you're ever in the area and need a cab, though, he's the guy to call. (8 854-4411, Chofer Padrilla, I believe is what it said on his card).

All along the way, we saw restaurants, bars, hotels, places offering guided tours of the area, surfing, bike rentals, bodegas. Anything you could need or want, unless of course what you want is a swanky five-star resort with a clean swimming pool and towels waiting for you in your room. At the end, we found ourselves in the center of Manzanillo. A tiny place surrounded by more national park land. The beach goes all the way down one side, the jungle on the other. And right in front of us, Maxi's, a restaurant well recommended by both people who live in the area and guide books. They were right.

Then we went walking through the jungle, spent some time playing on the beach. Lila and did yoga together, ran around and made sure every single inch of us was covered in sand. The best was when we gathered rocks then skipped them into the water, which was blue and warm.

We missed the last bus back, but a guy named Roberto (nicknamed Goofy) drove us to Puerto Viejo. He was born there and is related to 90% of the people around. He also has family in Bocas and all over the Chiriqui provence in Panama. We talked a lot with him about the process of buying land. Prices on beach front areas have skyrocketed, as they have in Panama. although technically, nothing is this area sits right on the beach. In Costa Rica, there are restrictions on building so close, but you can find a place right across the street and perhaps set back a bit in the jungle. He suggested getting land all the way out in the jungle with enough space to grown your own food. Everything grows here. I've seen bok choy, lettuce, squash, tomatoes and any tropical fruit you can imagine. Then, you come to town and the beach when you want, but when you're done, you disappear to the peace and quiet of your jungle retreat.

Just thinking of Puerto Viejo and around makes my entire self relax. I would love to go back for a longer visit or perhaps even live there, but I also wonder for how long it will be the way it is now. A bit of a backwoods, four hours away from Bocas, five from San Jose. But more and more people are moving there. Lots of American retirees, surfers, people from wherever who want a bit of peace and perhaps to fade off the map for a bit or perhaps forever. I wonder how long this place will last as it is.

It took three days and four showers before I stopped finding Manzanillo beach sand in my hair. I'm a bit sad it's gone.

April 11, 2008

The past couple weeks have been non-stop. It's too much for one post, so for now I'll stick to the goings on in San Jose.

We flew to Costa Rica to meet my parents. It wasn't the most terribly organized week, but it was lovely and very different than our normal days in Bocas. We stayed in the Marriot in Escazu, a nice, clean, highly professional place. We also joined organized tours, something Noah and I have never done. Lila, for her part, wanted only Granny and Grandpa. She slept in their room every night, sat with them during meals and didn’t bat an eye when Noah and I left for a couple hours together.

Everything was “I wanna sit next to Granny.” I wanna go with Granny.” Exactly how I was with my mother’s mother when we visited South Africa when I was just a couple years older than Lila. I also remember sitting in front of the mirror with her putting make-up on my cheeks and brushing my hair.

We chose a city tour of San Jose for our first day there. This began at the Teatro Nacional and Gold Museum in downtown San Jose. Just a tip: Don’t bother with this tour. We would have been better off just taking a taxi downtown and wandering around ourselves. We didn't have enough time in each of the places we wanted to see and spent far too much time peering through bus windows wondering "Hey! What's that?" while wishing we could stop at certain buildings, markets and other things instead of rushing on to our final stop, a gift shop, where we spent more time than pretty much any other place.

The theater is beautiful and while there, Noah bought tickets for the following Friday night performance of the symphony, which was just perfect. There, we listened to Beethoven's Leonora Overture (No. 3. Op. 72, to be specific) as well as Fantasia (piano and choral) all to be completed with Schubert's 9th Symphony. (Here I must add a public thank you to my parents for babysitting Lila so Noah and I could have a very rare night out. I think the last time I saw a symphony, I was six months pregnant.)

During the intermedio we milled about about in front of the theater along with the symphony and choir members taking a quick smoke break. One guy caught our eye because I swear he looked just like Jerry Garcia. He played bass, and I suppose I will always regret that I didn't look twice to see if he had all ten fingers. (After all these years, I am still amazed at that man's ability to play the way he did with only nine digits).

Our second day, we visited the La Paz Waterfall Garden near Volcan Poas and the village of Poasita. Here, you'll also find The Peace Lodge, which looks like a nice place to stay if you want something a bit more upscale. This tour was definitely worth it. The garden spans beautiful grounds on which you'll find birds, monkeys, a hummingbird area and, my favorite, a butterfly garden. I've been to quite a few butterfly gardens in my time and this one is without a doubt my favorite.

We dipped our fingers in dishes of banana mash, picked up butterflies and watched as they stuck out their long tongues to eat from our fingers. One refused to leave Lila's hand and had to be carefully removed before we left. All this, followed by a wandering through and past four different waterfalls. Up and down steps, hills and finally back to the bus to return to Escazu.

Noah and I visited Volcan Arenal, more specifically, the Tabacon Spa at the base of this live volcano.

It was an excrutiatingly long drive to get there. We spent the first hour and a half circling around San Jose picking others up at their hotels (another thing that drove me nuts about these tours). Then, we stopped at another souvenir stop for a whole freakin' hour. It did have a sweet little woodshop where you could watch artisans making and painstakingly hand painting details on to chairs, plaques, trays, rocking chairs and more. But really, a whole hour for this? I'd rather have spent the extra time at the spring. Top this with the painfully boring conversation between two men sitting nearby (They met on the tour.), which really hit a head for me when they starting commenting on how parents of 4 year old children could best help their children behave, mind you, neither of these men have children. And really all I wanted to do was get some sleep.

But a few hours in those gorgeous springs could soothe anyone.

Underground water, heated by the volcano and diverted into rivers flowing through the lush green gardens of Tabacon. A girl felt relaxed from the moment she walked through the front door. We moved from hot rivers to cool pools and wandered throught he maze of path through the garden. There was also a great water slide to zoom into the pool where you could then swim right up to a bar and enjoy a drink. The bartender, Edgar, told us he's planning a trip to Bocas sometime soon, so we invited him for dinner. He, in turn, told us the next time we come to Arenal, we'll stay in his place with the same view of the volcano as Tabacon. By the end of the day, all aggravation from the morning's ride washed away with a 40 degree Celsius flow of waterfall, and we chatted and laughed the whole way back.

One of those men I mentioned earlier turned out to be quite a character. He's a celebrity photographer from Las Vegas (lived there the past 40 years) and does contracted shoots for Playboy and the US Airforce. Ron Hart. He filled our ride home with stories of everyone from Ann Margaret to Jenna Jameson, Evel Knievel (somehow a relative of his) and I can't even remember who else.

Ron carried a small cooler filled with vodka and ice, started swigging from it around 9:30am (at least that’s when he got on the bus) and drank from it all day long. He also carried with him around 15K worth of photography and video equipment and spent a good portion of his time at the spa taking pictures. For my part, I got not one picture because I left our camera in the change room.

As one of the men left the bus, "He's gay," says Ron Hart.

"I'm glad you're getting off the bus before me,” I told him. “I wonder what you'd say about me when I get out."

This absolutely cracked him up, and it was that point he asked what i did for a living. "I'm a writer." And that is when he asked me to write his life story for him. "I've done all these things. Crazy things. And I'm a genius." He punctuated this last part by tapping rapidly against his temples.

I told him I'd e-mail him through his website. Straight From the Heart. “No you won’t,” he said. .And with that he hopped out of the bus, doors closed. Goodbye.

Knowing what I know now, I would stay in San Jose for a couple nights exploring the city and hopefully spending a bit more time with some of the Couchsurfers there. There’s a subgroup of the San Jose Couchsurfers called Los Comelones. They choose one night a month or so, chose one the best restaurants of the city, and all go out for dinner. We met a group for dinner at a place called Ozaki’s, an amazing Japanese-Peruvian fusion place where I had some of the best sushi of my life.

I'd stay at the Hemingway Inn, owned by another couchsurfer, and take a day trip or overnight to raft down the Pacuare River.

Then, I'd take a bus to Arenal and stay there for at least couple days hiking the falls, the volcano, repelling, zip-lining. The options to do are endless. From there, I'd go a bit further into the country to Monteverde to visit George, another Couchsurfer. He lived in Atlanta for many years and also has a wide knowledge of herbal medicine. Monteverde is a gorgeous cloud forest a good 45 minutes off the paved path. Apparently, right now, the Monteverde Music festival is in full swing.

Sunday morning, my parents caught their return flight to Atlanta and we hopped on a bus to drive through the pouring rain to Puerto Viejo where we spent two peaceful nights. Then once again, back to Bocas to meet up with Lauren, Monica, Jennifer and Tiffany, our Couchsurfers from Atlanta.

April 10, 2008

We went to sleep early last night after a very long day traveling back from Costa Rica. First the bus from Puerto Viejo to Sixaola, passport stamps, cross the bridge, another passport stamp back to Panama, then the ride to Changuinola where we waited for the boat to Bocas.

I love this boat ride. It takes about twice as long as the one from Almirante but it is absolutely beautiful. There, you'll see hundreds of birds, plants and even possibly a manatee or two.

So we arrive home exhausted, eat a little and fall asleep to be woken around 1AM as thunder jarred us out of bed. Next thing you know, Lila joined us in bed and with each enormous clap and rumble, she grabbed onto me shivering. We waited to see lightening flash the room bright for just a second, then counted 1...2...3... until the thunder arrived. At first, they were simultaneous. But soon enough, count to 6 and the thunder wasn't as loud. Then 12, and the next thing you know only the sound of rain on the roof and walls of our place.

"Where'd the thunder go?," Lila asked. Then, she was wide awake, excited, and wanting more."Do you remember when we listened to the thunder in that place before yesterday?" she continued.

She was talking about La Spezia. The morning we left Italy to return to France, we also were wakened by an enormous storm. Thinking she'd be scared, I climbed into bed with her before it woke her. There, we listened to the all the sounds of the weather.

This is something I missed in NYC. No matter how bad the rain, we never heard more than a soft patter through the thick schoolhouse walls (build in the early 1920s).

What I've also missed even though I hadn't realized it until last night is cuddling like this with Lila. It's been so long since she slept with us nightly, and in fact, these days, prefers to have her own bed. She's getting so big and so much more mature, and often rather defiant as well. Don't misunderstand, she's still the same sweet cuddly girl, but I think she turns more to her daddy, (aka the human jungle gym) than to mommy. It's normal, and it's right. After three years of being the one she went to for food, play, sleep, comfort, everything, it is good for us to both have space and time separate from each other. I suspect true independence develops in this way.

Today, Lauren a couchsurfing friend we met in Atlanta back in November arrived with three friends. They're in the house changing to go to the beach as I type.

April 06, 2008

We've been in Costa Rica for the past week with my parents. What a great week! Met some Couchsurfers, went to hear the symphony at the Teatro Nacional. Saw a live volcano, swam in hot springs, just generally had fun (even though I got sick for a bit. I think after these months in ever-so-hot Panama, I am not used to anything cooler.)

Tomorrow morning, my parents fly back to Atlanta and we hop on the bus to head to Puerto Viejo and Manzanillo. A couple day stop to break up the 8 hour trip between here and Bocas.

When we get back, Lauren, a Couchsurfer we met in Atlanta, and two or three friends arrive to stay for a bit. Can't wait!

But for now, I'm exhausted and must get to sleep. I probably won't have internet access again until we get back from this trip, but will post more then.

March 03, 2008

We're back. Jen is visiting. And I don't have anything in particular to say. Figured I'd post some pictures of our trip. (As paraphrase of what Jen said: It's cool to have to visit Costa Rica to run errands.)

This first one is a shot of the Bocas harbor where all the larger boats are docked. It was our last sight of Bocas on the boat to Changuinola. The boat (6 dollars to and from Bocas) is longer but far more beautiful and interesting than the boat ride to/from Almirante (4 dollars to and from Bocas.)

Then the sloth we saw our first night there. It was creeping ever so slowly across an electric wire in the driveway of the hotel. This is a 2-toed sloth. You can tell by the pig-like face. (Notice the baby as well)

The following day we went to the Aviarios del Caribe, a sloth reserve about ten minutes north of Cahuita. You take the bus to Limon and just tell the driver Aviaros. It started with a look at sloth babies and the other sloths they've taken in over the years. These animals are found after losing their mothers or after an injury. Some are treated, heal and are released into the wild. Some are not able to return and stay living on the reserve.

After the babies, you're taken on a canoe tour of the surrounding land. It was amazing how many animals, especially birds, we saw so closely.

The Aviarios is a perfect place to visit with a child or really with anyone who would find a trek through the jungle (found at the national park you can enter from Cahuita and all around the area) to be too much. They owners are unbelievably accomodating. You can guide your boat tour as works for you and much of the water is extremely shallow, although there are deeper areas. Lila had a great time looking at the bird guide and then chooseing a bird to find

This is the Boat Billed Heron or Pica Cuchara (Cochlearius cochliearius).

I somehow didn't see this iguana even while staring right at it.

We bought some animal and bird guides in the gift shop of Aviarios. That's how I recognized the nests of the Montezuma Oropendola (Psarocolius montezuma) -- those long objects you see hanging from the trees. Their tails are yellow and form an upside down heart you can see when they fly.